


It's so hard to keep this smile from my face

by Treehouse



Series: Shibari [1]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Bondage, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treehouse/pseuds/Treehouse
Summary: Even can be tidy as well. Meticulous, even. When he's focused.Like right now. When he's completely engrossed in tying a rope around Isak’s calves and thighs, looping it around itself to create knots in a straight row, symmetric on both legs.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Series: Shibari [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099940
Comments: 20
Kudos: 188





	It's so hard to keep this smile from my face

**Author's Note:**

> So when I said I'd be fun to write something for kinktober I also said that I absolutely would not write shibari because eh, how? And then, one sleepless night later - voilà.
> 
> I found a list with kinktober-prompts ages ago that I saved on my phone, but since my tagging on tumblr is messy and/or non-existent, I can't find the post and link you. You'll just have to trust me when I say that the prompt for the 27th is _shibari_. 
> 
> A million thanks to amazing Irazor who never stops cheering me on, and who has helped me improve the fic immensely.  
> Equally many thanks to Ghostcat who beta'ed for me and also laughed at Isak being a bro and helping his bro Even out. You're both wonderful ❤️
> 
> Title from Stealers Wheel.

Some people say Even is the messy type. Probably because his things are always scattered all over the apartment and Isak is tidy, and while Isak is the one that remembers to bring the list when they go shopping, Even is the one to leave the bags at the supermarket. 

But Even can be tidy as well. Meticulous, even. When he's focused. 

Like when he's editing. He doesn't stop until he's got each clip exactly as he’s pictured it, every cut and every angle contributing to the story he wants to tell. Or when he's cooking, when he can let himself be absorbed by each particular task. Browning the butter or chopping the vegetables. Letting the stew thicken until it's rich and the meat is tender, exactly the way he knows Isak loves it. 

Or like right now. When he's completely engrossed in tying a rope around Isak’s calves and thighs, looping it around itself to create knots in a straight row, symmetric on both legs. 

Isak is half-lying on their bed, propped up against a whole lot of pillows, watching Even as he works. He’s naked, relaxed, letting Even arrange him as he wishes, but his breath hitches every now and then when Even pulls the rope tighter or lets his hand rest on the inside of Isak’s thigh, where the skin is soft and there’s less hair. He’s been half-hard for as long as Even has been binding him, moaned lowly when he realized what Even was going to do, when he first started to fasten Isak’s calf to his thigh, immobilizing him. 

Even hasn’t touched him though. Not yet. Wants to finish the task at hand before he gives Isak his full attention. 

Or, other parts of Isak. 

Even’s been at it for quite a while now, wanting all the nodes to look identical before he deems himself finished. 

It didn’t start out like this. At first, Even was just doing research for one of his film projects. And although he doesn’t always fold away his clothes or do the dishes right after he’s eaten, he’s rigorous about research. Wants everything to be right, and to  _ look  _ right. And this particular character in this particular film needed to know his knots, needed to be able to make a sheet bend and a single column tie. Even wanted to expand his field of knowledge because he’s like that ―of a curious nature. The basic nautical knots were practical, albeit a little clumsy sometimes, didn't fit the character. It needed to be more sleek, more stylish. Before Even knew it, he was several hours into Shibari tutorials. Beautiful, symmetrical, and a whole new level of aesthetically pleasing. 

The first time he tried it on Isak, it was because he couldn’t practice on himself while he was the one tying the knots. They wore clothes that time, Isak had some documentary playing on the TV as Even had warned him that it could take some time. He just really wanted to try to tie a harness, to see if he could make it as neat and geometrical as in the tutorial and then he would probably drop it altogether. Even’s like that; gets obsessed with things for a short period of time, and then he lets go. 

Isak didn’t watch the documentary though. Even can still remember the distant look in Isak’s eyes as Even fastened his arms behind his back with the rope, how Isak shivered when Even made sure the binding was secure but not too firm around the wrists. Isak had remained in that harness for the better part of an hour and Even had made him come twice during that time. 

Even fixes the last knot, ties the ends of the rope to the binding closest to Isak’s groin. It’s perfect, Isak is perfect. Even has wound the rope four times around each leg, securing the rounds with knots in a clean row, mounds of flesh between the bindings, soft skin framed by coarse rope. 

“Okay?” His own voice is a little hoarse, both from not having spoken in a while, but also from seeing how affected Isak is, the blush on his cheeks, how his eyes are dark in the dim light. “Can you move your feet?” 

Isak nods, wiggles his feet a little. His cock twitches against his stomach as he does, he’s fully hard now. His voice is rough when he speaks. “Hands as well.” 

Even swallows against the surge of warmth coursing through him from Isak’s words, from his command, and this is where the whole scene shifts; when Even is finished tying Isak the way he wants to. Isak may seem helpless right now, but it’s his turn to lead the way, to tell Even what to do next. 

"Yeah?" 

Isak nods, licks his lips and crosses his wrists above his head. He doesn't let go of Even's gaze, always so sure of what he wants. 

Even pulls Isak down by his hips, makes Isak lie flat on his back in the middle of the bed. Tying his wrists together with a basic double-column tie would be a quick affair, but Even can’t resist making it look pristine. He makes Isak stretch a little to grip his own elbows, letting Even tie his underarms against each other before securing them to the bed frame. It takes some time getting the knots even and balanced, and it’s obvious that Isak is trying to stay still but it’s difficult to relax with your legs tied up like that, there’s no comfortable position in which he can rest. And so he’s moving, writhing, sighing. Distracting Even with all that smooth skin on display, the muscles straining and working in new ways since he can't straighten his legs. 

Even fastens the ends of the last rope and walks around the bed, inspecting his work. Isak is such a fucking sight like this, completely on display for Even, open and trusting and vulnerable. His arms stretched above his head, triceps straining as he shifts and Even can’t help but to lean forward and draw his nose along the dip between the muscles on his upper arm, to lick along it. All the way down to Isak’s armpit, to let the small tuft of hair tickle his nose. It smells of Isak here, of their soap and the deodorant he put on this morning, even if that’s almost completely washed away by now. Most of all, it just smells of Isak. 

“Even–” Isak’s breath hitches as Even closes his mouth around a nipple and he squirms clumsily, unable to get what he wants,  _ where _ he wants, on his own.

"You're okay like this?" 

Isak nods and arches his back, trying the ropes and Even has to swallow. He doesn't reach out to touch Isak just yet, wants to look a little bit more first. At how Isak's chest and abs contract with his arms and legs in this position, how the usually smooth curve of Isak's hip has been slightly altered from the rope Even’s wound around his thighs. How Isak's strong legs are restrained, made useless, and how easily they fall open with just the lightest push from Even's hand. 

When Isak lies like this, with his legs drawn up and to the sides, it's almost like he's framed, Even thinks. His legs accentuated with the straight lines of Even's bindings, the smooth, light skin in stark contrast to the dark hair between his legs and his hard, leaking cock; hot and glistening.

Even slides his hands along Isak's sides, along his legs, lets the rope tickle his palms. Isak's feet are warm, he wiggles his toes against Even's fingers and Even continues to slide his hands down Isak's ass. "Tell me what you want, babe." 

"Just―fuck. Make me come." 

"How? You know you have to be specific." He tilts his head in question, tries not to smirk. Even really does want to know what Isak wants, loves to hear him say it. He draws his fingers slowly between Isak's ass-cheeks, feels him clench and shiver. 

"Yeah, yes, like that. Your fingers. Please, Even."

_ Fuck _ . Even loves to make Isak come, to make him feel good, and to be honest he'd hoped for this. To have Isak before him like this for a good while, to see the blush spread across his neck and chest as Even brings him closer and closer to orgasm with only his fingers. 

He gets Isak wet and slippery with lube, teases his rim. Isak is already eager and reactive, squirming and sighing, responding to Even’s every thouch. There's something about having Isak before him like this, pliant and trusting and a little desperate that makes Even want to draw it out. He steadies Isak's knee with one hand, watches where his fingers are teasing at Isak’s hole, where Isak is positively trying to  _ pull _ Even inside. 

"Please. Please, just--" 

And there it is. The voice Even hadn’t heard until the first time they did this. The desperate pleas that only come when Isak completely surrenders. He arches and moans loudly when Even finally pushes his wet fingers inside, whimpers when he presses just right. 

Like this, on his knees between Isak's legs, Even’s in total control. This is not a position he ever saw himself in, nor is it anything he's ever thought he wanted to be. It just kind of happened. Gradually, with Isak calling the shots, taking initiative, telling Even what he wanted, what he liked. That he wished for Even to take control.

The amount of trust Isak is putting in him is staggering, a proof of how far they've come, how they fit together at all times. 

He parts his fingers slightly. Marvels at how Isak accommodates him, at how silky smooth his insides are against Even's fingertips, that bump that makes Isak quiver when Even touches it. He lets his fingers slip out, watches the muscle clench around nothing before it closes again. It's shiny, a little puffy now, and Even teases it with his thumb, pulls at the rim to make Isak groan. He's so sensitive there, always has been. 

"You look amazing like this. On display for me." Even lets his gaze sweep over Isak, makes sure Isak knows that Even’s watching him, every part of him, his own fingers slowly pushing inside. "You know I love to watch you, right? To see how you open up for me, how well you take my fingers." 

Isak whimpers at that, pleads for more. His head is thrown back, eyes closed and Even almost can't believe he's already this far gone. He keeps his voice low and dark, the way he knows Isak likes, and keeps talking. 

About how good Isak feels around his fingers, how silken and warm he is inside. How Even wants to see him come on his fingers and how he wants to come inside of Isak after. How he'll just have to lie there and take it, all tied up and unable to move. How he should wear a plug next time when Even is tying him, so that he's open and ready when Even has finished. 

Isak is groaning, straining against the ropes, his breathing’s shallow and Even knows he's close, just on the verge of tipping over. He presses with his thumb on the sensitive skin just behind Isak’s balls, holds his leg still by the rope, keeps him open. 

It's such a thrill to watch Isak come like this, how Even can see it creeping up on him gradually. At first, he goes completely silent, rigid almost, like he's gasping for breath. As if all of his focus is on what’s happening inside of him. Then, his body is catching up with what's happening. It seems to roll through him in waves, the pleasure taking over before he starts spilling all over himself. At this point Even can push and tease and stretch and really draw it out, making Isak come for much longer than he normally does. And especially on a night like this, when the foreplay has been going on for hours. 

Isak has started making these gorgeous sounds, hoarse groans mixed with pleads. He's shaking and coming and begging Even to fuck him. Right the fuck now. 

Isak makes a protesting huff when Even pulls his fingers out but then moans when Even replaces them with his cock. Even's so fucking hard, so turned on that it's almost painful but he starts out somewhat slow, doesn't want to hurt Isak. He keeps going though, as Isak starts thrashing immediately when Even pushes inside, and the way he keeps coming in thick spurts all over his stomach urges Even to continue to prolong Isak's orgasm at the same time he's chasing his own. Isak is shaking, tugging the ropes, his muscles straining and Even knows it's going to leave marks, red stripes on Isak's pale skin. 

It doesn’t take long before Even comes, not with Isak looking like this, sounding like this, squeezing hard around Even's cock. He holds Isak's legs apart as he fucks him, uses the ropes as leverage as he thrusts inside, hard, just the way Isak likes. Judging by the high-pitched moans coming from Isak, he's probably getting sensitive now, feeling that sharp edge to it that Even knows he wants. Especially when Even has him tied down, completely at his mercy. 

Isak has been so honest about what he likes, what he wants, and when Even thinks about it, he wants to bend down and kiss Isak, suck a mark into the thin skin on his neck, scrape his teeth against Isak's nipple, lick his armpit; he wants to be everywhere at the same time and then he's coming, coming so fucking hard there are white dots dancing before his eyes. He pulls out, the last spurts of his come ending up on Isak's spent cock and he's panting, almost shaking with it as he fists himself to draw it out just a little more. Isak is shivering, chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the ropes keeping him in that same, open position in front of Even. The knots haven’t budged at all, Even’s work is perfectly executed, his diligence showing in how Isak’s skin is reddened and almost chafed where he’s been pulling the ropes. His mouth is curled into that little half-smile though, and he’s looking debauched and used in the best of ways. Even has to kiss him, has to touch him. 

Isak stretches his neck as Even leans down to kiss him, meets his lips in a soft kiss before Even sits up and starts untying Isak's legs. There are marks from the rope, indents in Isak's soft skin and Even strokes them softly and helps Isak stretch his legs, rubs them a little. Isak's got his eyes closed, a contented smile on his lips. He lets out a relieved sigh when Even starts to loosen the ropes on his other leg, hums when Even follows the marks with his fingers. 

Isak watches him as he unties the knots, it's soft and quiet and Even can feel it in his chest, in his very core, how the moment just gets to him. Their proximity, the vulnerability. How Isak just lies there and trusts Even to handle things. To handle him. 

Isak clears his throat. "You know you're going to have to carry me to the shower?" There's a teasing smile there, a challenge. 

"Or I can just leave you here? Keep you for later?" 

Isak studies him. “You could.” His voice's got a rough edge to it all of a sudden and Even almost flushes at the thought. Thinks about returning to a desperate Isak who have been left to wait for him, unable to do anything but exactly that. Yeah. That  _ is _ an interesting thought. Especially with Isak looking like this; abs still covered in come, hair dark and sweaty, thighs marked by the ropes and he looks like he wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world. 

"I could." 

Isak's stomach growls, and Even laughs. "But maybe some other time?" 

Even bends down to kiss Isak again, hand sliding along his arm, across the bindings. Isak grabs his hand, squeezes it. He's serious, and Even is, too. They'll talk about this. Maybe later, maybe in a few days. They always do. 

"I love you. And I want pizza."

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!  
> I'm modestytreehouse on tumblr, come talk! ❤️


End file.
